


By Default

by julie



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1987-10-01
Updated: 1987-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23699404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julie
Summary: Avon learns more about Vila during a couple of cold nights spent planet-side.
Relationships: Kerr Avon/Vila Restal
Kudos: 4





	By Default

**Author's Note:**

> **First published:** in the zine “The Other Side” #4 by Clarke & Keating in the latter parts of 1987.

# By Default

♦

As soon as they left the main room, Vila fell to shivering and wrapped his arms around his chest. “Couldn’t we sleep back there, in front of the fire? It’s freezing!” 

“The Liberator’s conditioned air has got to you.” Avon seemed totally unaffected. 

“No, it’s just damn freezing.” 

Their room was hardly warmer than the corridors. Vila eyed the thin mattresses laid on the bare wooden floor with distaste. “When Blake said to live simply…” he grumbled. 

“It’s a simple planet.” 

“Simple? Too hung up to be simple.” 

“Yes. I noticed.” Avon couldn’t keep the laugh out of his voice. “I thought you might be sleeping elsewhere tonight.” A glance and a raised eyebrow indicated an establishment near the tavern at which they were staying. 

“Ah, yes,” Vila sighed. “They looked such grubby, lonely girls. Cold, too. You’d spend half the night warming them up.” 

“Surely the most entertaining part.” 

Vila snuggled down in a corner and produced another bottle. 

After a moment, Avon continued, “Well, there was another establishment up the road.” 

“I saw it.” Vila’s voice cut flatly through Avon’s. “It’s so cold. I’m gonna get some sleep.” 

Avon regarded Vila’s back for a while, then turned down the light and took Vila’s bottle to his own bed. He sat staring into the darkness. Suffered through an eternity of listening to Vila trying to bury further into the blankets. 

“Vila.” 

“God, I can’t get warm.” 

“Come here, then.”

Not looking at him, Vila brought over his blankets and settled into Avon’s side with his back to him. Avon touched his fingers to Vila’s cheek – which felt that unnatural cold your reflexes told you was impossible, with the flesh seeming to pump out cold when it should be heat. Avon pulled him closer, and put an arm around Vila’s waist. 

Vila sleepily murmured protests whenever Avon took the arm away to drink from the bottle. Finally, slipping down beside Vila, Avon touched his cheek again. Warmth, and a half-asleep, moaning Vila pushing up to Avon’s touch. 

Suddenly they were both wide awake, Avon still, Vila tense. Avon hated that Vila half expected a retort, a blow. Hated that he, Avon, wanted to do exactly that. Punish him. But also… 

To silence that notion, Avon lay down, took Vila firmly round the waist, and finally felt him relax. But once Vila was asleep, Avon couldn’t help moving even closer, touching as much of Vila as possible. He could explain it to Vila as that night’s need for warmth, but he was more honest with himself. It had just been too long since he’d had the companionship. 

♦

The next night they again sat before the fire in the main room. 

“Staying in again tonight?” Avon asked, and narrowly missed Vila’s spilt wine as Vila fell against him laughing. “I can see why… you’d be quite incapable.” 

“You realise we’re lodging in the most disreputable area of the city? In fact, the one and only disreputable area?” 

“Well, at least we’ll be inconspicuous. I can’t imagine _you_ mingling with the more accepted citizens.” 

“I did today.” Vila laughed again. 

Avon lifted his eyebrows at him. “You realise that if you were falling all over me, drunk and giggling, anywhere else in this benighted city, you’d be locked away and rehabilitated? In fact, it might well do you good. We could pick you up afterwards.” 

Vila attempted to make a face at him, but ended up helplessly amused at what he imagined he looked like. “Forgive the drink, it’s to keep me warm.” Then Vila suddenly recalled, “You know what happened? Two people – _two_ – each attempted to pick me up. Haven’t been picked up for years. Nice to be reminded how gorgeous I am.” 

“Male or female?” 

“One of each actually.” 

“They thought you were a whore, on the wrong side of town.” 

“It’s unnatural. They’re really hung up.” 

“I gather you’re not referring to their attraction to you.”

“ _That’s_ the most natural thing…” 

“Oh, really?” Avon put on a look of scientific scepticism. Vila took a few more swigs between laughs. “Is that really helping?” Avon indicated the wine Vila was jealously guarding. 

“It makes me forget.” 

“The cold? And what else?” 

Vila was suddenly silent, sunk in his thoughts. It seemed as if he’d been switched off as he slumped against Avon, inert. 

“Vila?” No response. Avon put an arm around Vila’s shoulders and shook him slightly. “Vila! What _are_ you thinking of?” 

“I don’t know. My life history.” 

“Can it really be that depressing?” 

“So much of me turned out this way by default.” 

“Ah. You get philosophical when you’re drunk.” 

“All these hidden depths in me that you never see.” Vila sighed, shifted – and felt Avon’s arm. A moment’s hesitation, but then he rested his head on Avon’s shoulder. 

“I see you drunk often enough.” 

“Hopeless, aren’t I?” 

Avon was silent. But the silence and the arm firmly around his shoulders were enough. Avon secured the bottle and drank what remained, before saying, “Let’s get some sleep.” 

Vila stirred and looked around the virtually empty room. “Must be late. Can’t we stay the night in front of the fire? No one’s gonna mind.” 

“Come on.” Avon kept his hand on Vila’s shoulder until they got to their room – and Vila made purposefully for his own bed. “Vila?” 

“It’s all right. I’m so drunk, I’ll just fall asleep. I might freeze to death during the night, but I hear it’s a nice way to go.” 

“Vila. Be reasonable. I’m cold, too.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Sceptical. Noncommittal. 

“I’ve got you too used to not believing a word I say.” 

Silence. Vila was leaning against the wall as if he needed it in order to stand up. “Well, you believe _me_ now. I’ll be all right on my own tonight.”

Avon stared one of his stares at him, then started to turn away. 

“Avon. Look – it’s just I’m too drunk to be responsible for my actions. I’ll sleep alone.” A silence stretched. “I owed you an explanation, right?” Avon was turning back to him, and Vila hardly knew what to expect. 

“You look a lot soberer now.” Avon gave a tight smile. 

Vila, surprised at being able to look him in the eyes, rolled the back of his head against the wall. “God,” was all he said. 

“Is it my irresistible charms, or are you just particularly horny tonight? I could always guide your drunken footsteps to either of the aforementioned establishments. Come to think of it, people _did_ attempt to pick you up today. One, as you said, of each.” 

Vila stood there, beginning to look mildly amused at all this. “What am I meant to say?” 

“Just come and keep me warm tonight.”

Vila shrugged, and after another moment bent to good-naturedly gather up his blankets. “You sure know how to sober a guy up. Got a cure for hangovers, too?” 

In the darkness, Avon took Vila into his arms, and murmured, “Is this one of the things you are by default?”

♦


End file.
